


downtime

by busaikko



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bondage, Double Penetration, Gags, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-28
Updated: 2011-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:16:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Jennifer and Rodney figure out what they like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	downtime

**Author's Note:**

> Written for sga_kinkmeme

"Wow," John says, blinking because whoa, he's really pretty fucking drunk and Rodney's room is spinning like a kaleidoscope of dirty clothes and journals. He's glad Jennifer made Rodney get big floor pillows in SF to replace the sofa, because at least there's no falling down once you're already on the floor. "So you two crazy kids gonna tie the knot, huh?"

"Naah," Jennifer drawls, slumping over sideways onto him so that he has to catch her fast or have her faceplant into his crotch. Rodney laughs at both of them. Years of experience have shown John that there is no power on Earth or in Pegasus that can make Rodney anything more than a little tipsy. Rodney's metabolism is like Teflon for alcohol. John will probably hate him a lot tomorrow morning. "What about you?"

"No knot tying," John says. He tries to make the Boy Scout pledge fingers but he can't remember which they were.

"John prefers being tied up," Rodney declares, and takes away Jennifer's empty beer can. He replaces it with a plastic Evian bottle.

"How do you know that?" Jennifer asks, sounding brightly curious. John points at Rodney, figuring he needs to address this somehow. "Yeah," he says, narrowing his eyes, "what she said." Which as soon as he's said it seems not so much like a denial.

Rodney leans over and grabs John's wrist, his fingers tight over the wristband, and John goes so lightheaded it feels like he's falling _up_.

"Cool," Jennifer says, appreciatively. "Threesome sometime?"

Rodney lets John's hand go to give her a headtap. "He's my best friend, not a sex toy."

But John is already saying, "Sure, when's good for you?" and Jennifer starts shaking with laughter.

* * *

Jennifer insists that they wait until they're sober and have talked things over. John doesn't so much talk as bring his gym bag full of a few of his favorite things, and hand it over.

"Five years," Rodney says, glaring at John, who's sitting on the edge of Jennifer's big bed with a knee that won't stop jiggling, "five whole years we've, you and me, and never once did you mention that you own an adjustable spreader bar. Or these lovely matching wrist and ankle cuffs."

"A boy has to have a few secrets," John says, trying to sound like it doesn't matter. Jennifer puts a hand on his knee and pushes down hard. John's leg goes still; all of him, in fact, goes still, while his dick gets hard.

The first few times they fuck it's like practice, a lot of _Nope, that doesn't work for me_ and _More of that, less of this_ and _I feel ridiculous_. It's easier, Rodney says, to work out what they like individually before trying to bring it all together.

John likes having hands on him, and he doesn't care whether he's being petted or scratched or spanked; what does it for him is being helpless to stop it. ("Unless you safeword," Jennifer counters when he mentions this, rolling her eyes; she gets over her afterglow awfully fast. John's not about to incur a lecture. "Duh," he says, and slides down a bit more into her comforter.)

After a while, everything comes together suddenly and it's _real_ to John in a way that's so devastating he might have run if Rodney wasn't locking his legs into place.

"You really liked being gagged," Jennifer is saying. "That one time. And it works if you're not in the middle, but if you are," and she shrugs and pulls something that's worn tan leather and stainless steel and evil looking out of her shoulder bag.

"Oh, my god," Rodney says. "What have I told you about bringing your work home?"

Jennifer rolls her eyes and hands the gag to John. And yeah, it probably comes from Dr Sato's closet of dental torture and not Medicalkink-dotcom, but John thinks about not being able to shut his mouth or his legs, about being fucked from both ends, and he's damn grateful that the first thing Rodney put on him was the cock ring.

He swallows. "Yeah," he says, and his voice sounds like sandpaper. He has no idea what his face looks like. "That'll work."

There are silicon bits that keep John from fucking his teeth up on the stainless bars, but he thinks the gag ( _mouth opener_ , Jennifer corrects him, and then says, _whatever_ ) must look pretty hardcore anyway once Jennifer's buckled it on. She tucks the LED ball that Rodney chose for a safe signal into his hand (having signals is another of Jennifer's hard and fast rules; the fact that the ball's pink and bounces is due to Rodney's sick sense of humor), and Rodney attaches the wrist cuffs to the belt that's tight around the mattress. John tries tugging. He can't get very far.

"You seriously expect me to stick my dick in this thing?" Rodney asks, inspecting the gag, using his fingers to check inside John's mouth like for sharp edges. It makes John feel like an animal being sold; he tries to push Rodney's fingers out with his tongue. He can't suck, which is going to be weird. "Like fucking a mousetrap."

"Live dangerously," Jennifer says, so dry that John can just picture the look on her face. She kneels up behind him, in the space where John can't close his legs, and slides her hands up his thighs, cups his balls, and then gives the cock ring a tug.

John whimpers, Rodney shuts him up by shoving the head of his cock into John's mouth, and Jennifer stretches out over John's back, her breasts pressing so close that he imagines he can feel where her nipples are. She's wearing her strap-on, sliding the dildo so it strokes under his balls. He can feel the bullet vibe over her clit, probably turned up high again. She wears out a lot of batteries.

Swallowing's pretty much impossible for John with his head at this angle, which makes his body freak a bit, but what really gets him is how incredibly shameful it feels to not be able to shut his mouth. He can't own Rodney's dick like in a regular blowjob; he's being used. John can't swallow, and Rodney doesn't care or maybe doesn't know if John's jaw hurts, if he's breathing okay, it's not like John can say anything, and -

Well. It's the kind of mindfuck John loves, the most fucked up part being that he can only get this from someone he trusts. All he can do is relax and just enjoy the ride. Not like he can go anywhere, as the wet head of Jennifer's dildo slides along his crack, slips over his hole, and then the pressure as she leans. Her hands are curled tight around his hips as she fucks into him with slow relentless rocks. She moves her hips differently from Rodney, precise and just a bit distanced, as if she's just using his ass to hold the toy while she gets herself off.

Jennifer gets John distracted, but then Rodney jerks his head up with a hand fisted in John's hair. It's sharp and sudden and John's eyes water and the angle he's held at lets Rodney's dick slide that little bit further that John can't breathe. Rodney holds him there, meeting John's watery gaze, and then pulls back. John's being fucked hard and all he can focus on are the hands on his body, a press down at the small of his back, a palm cupping his chin, fingers brushing over his eyelids so that he has to blink. He hates blindfolds, he can take anything as long as he can see, but he finds he can take the teasing, can turn the panic into something freeing. Jennifer scrapes her nails down his sides, and John feels unzipped. Then she leans over him again and has her hand around his wrist just above the cuff, and John realizes she's talking to him, asking him to check in.

Okay, he might be a little out of it, but he gives her the okay with fingers stiff from hanging onto the damn ball.

"Good," she says, pulling out slow and careful, leaving him empty. "Get ready to move."

John hates moving, hates being unhooked, but Rodney's good. Before John can get his head around the idea that he can escape, Rodney has him on his back with his hands secured over his head. Jennifer takes the cock ring off, but doesn't attach his ankles to the bed; John's not sure how he feels about that. But then Jennifer hooks one leg over his, and John can feel her cunt hot and wet against his leg as she shifts, finding the best friction. Rodney does the same on the other side, pushing up to kiss Jennifer as his dick slides hard against John's leg. John feels a bit shorted out. No one's fucking him and he's aware enough now that discomfort is checking in, that used up and thrown away feeling he usually gets when he's not tied down.

But he's also got Rodney and Jennifer practically lying on top of him, pinning his legs down with theirs, groping each other and kissing while fucking themselves against him, and if someone would just grab his dick he'd be good. He could say something, the gag doesn't keep him from being able to talk, or he could just tense his thighs, pushing up as much as he can against Jennifer's cunt and Rodney's dick as frustration coils up in him like a spring, like a rifle cocked, like a fucking avalanche.

Rodney comes first, grinding himself so hard as he's overwhelmed that John's probably going to have a dick-sized bruise on the side of his leg. John can feel the vibration from Rodney talking and shouting when he comes, but the words don't register. Rodney drops his head down onto John's chest, breathing hard, and then slides a hand down to wet his fingers with come. He uses his come to slick Jennifer's nipples, probably just because it amuses him, but Jennifer starts gasping, and John tightens his muscles where she's rubbing herself off, trying to help, trying to push her over the edge. Rodney's thumb rubs around her areola, over her nipple, the way he would tease her clit, and John's having trouble breathing again. Jennifer squeezes her eyes shut and John can hear _her_ when she comes, a long chain of raw sounding _oh_ s that are torn off with gasps as her body shakes and bends around him, losing rhythm as orgasm throbs through her.

Jennifer's long hair, sweat-dark, falls over John as she bows her head, still shaking, and Rodney shifts to yank a fistful of John's hair right at the crown of his head with one hand while grabbing his dick with the other. It's like being deep under water and shooting to the surface, an unbearable rush towards light and then John's coming. He feels disembodied; he's up and out and he just rides that wave for as long as he can.

He comes around to warm towels and the weird sensation of having his mouth closed, gentle fingers along his jaw. His face is damp and his eyes are sticky, which means he's been crying, and he blinks to see if he still is. He isn't, which is marginally less embarrassing. Someone swipes his face with a towel, rough and fond which means Rodney. John grins up at him when the towel's gone, and Rodney gives him that _why do I even like you_ look.

"Everything fine on cloud nine?" Rodney asks him.

"Yeah," John says. His voice is pretty destroyed. Rodney rolls his eyes and shoves a bottle of water at him. It takes a bit of coordination for John to push himself up enough to drink. He's still in the cuffs, and they're heavy, like they want to pull him back down.

Jennifer's snuggled up to John's side, and she has an arm over John's stomach. John gives in and lies back. Jennifer hooks the sheet with one foot and drags it up as far as she can, about knee-high. "That was - " she says, and then makes a low purring noise. But she's obviously not as slow-moving as John is, because she adds quickly, "Dibs on the second shower."

Damn, John thinks. _One_ of these days he won't be last in line.

"I'll try to leave some hot water," Rodney says, as if common courtesy is a virtue he should be praised for. He grabs the sheet and hauls it up to tuck roughly under John's shoulder. There's a pause, and then Rodney leans over to kiss Jennifer. She makes more content-sounding noises. Next is John's turn. He doesn't try to be cute, he has ten years on Jennifer and prefers not to invite comparison, but he's good at romantic kissing, kissing to say he's happy and he doesn't want to be anywhere else or with anyone else. That's because he's mature. Suave, even. And so high on good sex that he doesn't care about being really fucking obvious.

Straightening, Rodney collects the pile of towels from the floor, grumbling under his breath, and John and Jennifer both watch his ass until the bathroom door slides shut.

"He'll be in there for ages," Jennifer says. "Hey. Want to get up to no good?"

John snorts. "I couldn't even get it up for River Phoenix right now."

Jennifer sighs dramatically and wiggles closer, setting in like John's her body pillow. "I'll expect more cheap, meaningless sex in the morning, honey bunny," she says, her fingers brushing light through the hair on John's stomach.

John turns his head and gives her the best kiss he can manage at the crappy angle. "Sure thing," he says. "Honey bunny my ass."

Jennifer shuts her eyes and yawns, her breath warm on John's neck. "Love you, too," she says, and settles into sleep.


End file.
